Card Game
by owlcroft
Summary: Pick a card, any card. Put it back. Watch while I shuffle. Now, is this your card?


Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, but a woman can dream, can't she?

A/N: This was a Forum Challenge. Thanks, Cheri!

CARD GAME

by

Owlcroft

McCormick, intent on his eggs and sausage, flinched slightly at the shout from the judge.

"What!" Hardcastle was angry and astonished. He brandished the paper and shouted again. "Look at this! Can you believe this? That slimy weasel!"

Mark pulled his fingers from his ears and said, "I can't look at it, Judge, unless you hand it over here. What's got you so riled up? The Lakers trade Jabbar or something?"

"This is the _Daily Journal_, not the _Times,_" the judge fumed. "It's Arthur Farnell. He's filed an appeal." He handed over the paper.

"An appeal? On what grounds?" McCormick tried to scan the article quickly, but Hardcastle answered him before he could read it.

"On the grounds that one of his jurors was coerced by the rest to change his vote to guilty. I can't believe this." Hardcastle got up and paced around the patio area. "We had a tight case on that guy. They only took a couple of hours to reach a verdict." He gestured at the legal newspaper in Mark's hands. "This is bribery of a juror _ex post facto_ and I'm not gonna put up with it!"

"Wait a minute," McCormick put down the paper and looked at the angry man in front of him. "You mean Farnell had somebody on the outside spy on the jurors and pick the one who needed money the most? Are you serious?"

"It happens. Once in a while. I had a case about six years before I retired where one of the jurors tried the same thing," said the judge ferociously. "He said the other jurors had compelled him to vote guilty even though he thought the defendant was innocent. The defendant tried to get the verdict overturned, but the appeals court denied it _and _the juror ended up being prosecuted. And I'm gonna make sure this one ends up in the dumper, too."

He grabbed the paper back and headed for the door to the kitchen.

"Whoa, whoa, Kemo Sabe." Mark looked at his watch, then stood and started gathering plates and cutlery. "It's not even eight o'clock yet; where are you going?"

"Oh. Well, I was gonna call the D.A.'s office to find out what they're gonna need from us." Hardcastle held the door for a plate-laden McCormick.

"Look, I know you want to get right on this, but give them a break." Mark set the dishes in the sink and turned to face the judge. "Wait 'til eight-thirty at least, and in the meantime, you can tell me what you said about me to Farnell when we caught him." He grinned impishly. "Remember? You said I had to wait 'til I was older and now I am."

"You're two years older and I've forgotten," replied the judge grumpily.

"Oh, come on, Hardcase." Mark leaned back against the counter. "You never forget anything. What did you tell him I was? Handsome? Charming? Intelligent?"

"Hah!" Hardcastle threw the paper onto the counter and said, "I probably told him you were a pain in the elbow. Now get those dishes done. We might need to go downtown later on."

As he started toward the hallway, McCormick called him back. "Hang on, Judge. I got a bribe for _you_." He opened the cabinet over the counter and reached up to the top shelf.

"Tell me what you said and you can have this." He produced a white envelope with an elaborate gesture. "Come on," he said enticingly. "I know you want this."

"What is it?"

"It's something I found cleaning out the attic. Remember that old brown suitcase?" Mark put the envelope behind his back to prevent the judge from getting a better look at it. "Well, the top came off when I threw it away and it ripped the lining away from the side."

"And you found that in there?" Hardcastle was trying to peer around him.

"Yep. And I bet you took your wife on a little trip one Valentine's Day, didn't you? And you used that suitcase." Mark looked smugly at an obviously annoyed judge.

"Give me that! That's my property and . . ." He stopped abruptly. "How did you know that?"

"Judge, you really don't remember what you told Farnell about me?" McCormick held the envelope up in front of Hardcastle again. "Really?"

Judge Hardcastle took the envelope from him and said softly, "She always did that. She always put a little heart over the 'i' on Valentines."

Mark turned to the sink and began rinsing the breakfast dishes to give the judge a little privacy. By the time he'd finished loading the dishwasher, Hardcastle had the card back inside the envelope and was rubbing his nose.

The judge cleared his throat and said huskily, "We--" He cleared his throat again and started over. "We always kept our cards. Every birthday, every Christmas, and every Valentine's Day. This one got lost on the trip." He looked at the card in his hand and smiled. "We went up to Carmel for the week-end. Had dinner on Cannery Row. I thought I'd packed it, but when we got home, I couldn't find it. It was the only one missing."

Mark wiped crumbs off the counter and threw them into the sink. "It was way down inside the lining. Looked like it had slid almost to the bottom."

"Well." Hardcastle looked at McCormick, then back at the card. "Thanks." He checked his watch and said, "I'm gonna try the D.A.'s office. Maybe somebody's in early today."

He went through the kitchen door into the hallway and said something over his shoulder that Mark didn't catch.

"What?" he yelled. "Iniquity? What did you say?"

The judge popped his head back into the kitchen just long enough to say distinctly, "Integrity. That's what I told him." Then he was down the hallway and entering the den.

Mark smiled and said softly, "Integrity. Huh." He smiled the rest of the morning.

Finis


End file.
